


The Hamster Wheel

by AlmesivaMoonshadow



Category: Outlast, Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: A Basic Study Of Eddie's Love-Starved Nature, Abusive Fathers, Animal Abuse, Animal Murder, Book References, Chauvinism, Classical References, Crime and criminals, Dark Humor, Depression, Disney References, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Homelessness, Hurt and comfort, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mommy Issues, Morbid Humor, Mother-Son Relationship, Murder, Neglectful Mothers, Other, Outdated Ideas, Popular Media References, Pre-Asylum Eddie Gluskin, Problematic Families, Serial Killers, Sexism, Spousal Issues, Stalking, Trauma, Violence, Violent Jealousy, animal cruelty, musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 17:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11422677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlmesivaMoonshadow/pseuds/AlmesivaMoonshadow
Summary: Eddie Gluskin didn’t consider himself possessive. Just selectively defensive.





	The Hamster Wheel

* * *

 

 

 

  
-” _You didn't have to smile at me_ _,_  
_Your grin's the sweetest that I've ever seen_ _,_  
_But you did. Yes you did_ _,_  
_You didn't have to offer your hand_ _,_  
_'Cause since I've kissed it I am at your command_ _,_ _  
__But you did_ _.”-_

 

****(Honeybee - Steam Powered Giraffe)** **

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eddie was a lonely man, there was no denying that.  
And it was not like he never tried to change his situation.  
He had a life before Murkoff, before Mount Massive, before this mess.  
He could’ve even said that he was something of a charming man.  
Someone who tried to make new friends, close ones, aquitances.  
But, could never quite keep them, for whatever reason.  
Simply put - they all loved someone else over him.  
If only just a little bit more in quantity.  
Their brother, their neighbor.  
Their goddamn pet dog, even.

 

 

 

 

It enraged him. Made his blood boil in anger. Even as he recollected upon it. Gluskin was self-aware enough to know that outwardly - there was nothing too terribly wrong with, at least not to a stranger. Not even to those who knew him briefly. He was no narcissist - but he understood he was fairly handsome. Quite well-spoken. A pleasant fellow to be around. Funny, at times. An old school gentleman everyone claimed was a dying breed. A product of a different era. Perhaps he suffered from the famous “nice guy” syndrome - believing the world owed him something for his fair character and openly mild manner. Didn’t it, though? Didn’t he deserve at least some form of reward? Divine providence? The sourest anecdote which haunted his mind as he sit in the corner of his padded cell, trapped by the belts and chains of straight jacket was the time he fancied a local, borderline stereotypical girl next door in a neighborhood much like any other in Mount Vernon, Illinois - just one of many random stops he found himself in after he left that accursed, desolate place he called home. Eddie was something of a man with no permanent address back in the days. His nightly activities and sins behind closed doors forbade him from ever sticking around too long. Ever building a home. A permanent residence. A sanctuary of habit. Fate demanded that he always disappear. Leave. Evaporate. There was no peace for The Groom - that’s how the newspapers called him.

 

 

 

She was a commonplace Jefferson County lass and that’s exactly what he liked about her.  
No exceptional beauty - but exceptional enough to catch his eye in the mornings.  
When she was grocery shopping for the day, heading up to her apartment.  
Carrying a plastic bag full of goods - she liked her Yogurt with raspberries.  
Her favorite shampoo scent was Forest Fresh and he could smell it on the stairs.  
In her dried, loose hair - her curls - a shade between caramel brown and a tint of auburn.  
A plain Jane, but whatever reason - her presence warmed Eddie’s heart and she could be the one.

 

 

 

The mother of his unborn children.  
Eddie Junior - he’s already picked some names out.

 

 

He’s observed her for quite a while now. She didn’t have anyone. No parents. No beau. No pretenders. She wasn’t a whore. Not like all the others. No. Not like his mother. All the others he’s - disposed of. This one was an angel, he believed. A solitary angel in a solitary, urban run-down flat cowered by smog and the drying laundry hanging from her middle-aged, widowed neighbor's balcony who tended to wish her good morning every now and then. Eddie decided he’s going to silence that old coot too - for purely pedantic reasons. The only person she did - well, pet - if one wills - was her Hamster. Eddie always wondered why she carried around packets of dried fruit, grains, sesame seeds and soybeans (roasted with no salt, specifically). Apparently, Fluffy, as he discovered the damnable thing was called through covert means of his own was her only company. What was this feeling? Was it jealousy? Was it envy? Was it fear? Was it hatred? Was it all at the same time? Eddie recalled that he hasn’t felt this unnaturally, inexplicably threatened since the time he managed to schedule something of a rendezvous with a single mother back home who just so happened to pay more attention to the movie they went out to watch then to him. That was certainly the last mistake that bitch ever made. Perfume: Story of a Murderer? What an ironic foreshadowing of a film, really. She never quite caught on. They never do until it’s too late.

 

 

 

Getting closer to his beloved wasn’t all that hard.  
He’s done it to countless other people countless times before.  
She seemed starved for affection and attention - much like himself.  
She was surprised they had so much in common, in fact - right off the bat.  
But, it was only because he’s kept his eyes on her for so long.  
She said she related most to Disney’s Sleeping Beauty.  
Eddie told her she had Belle’s visage instead.  
She said she liked love ballads.  
Eddie concurred.  
He called it destiny - maybe it was.  
Something that was entirely plausible and meant to be.  
But, he wasn’t going to deny that he forced the hand of fate, just a bit.  
By the gathering knowledge about her and then pretending it’s all spontaneous.  
Not that she knew that - she liked him, hopefully just as much as he needed her to.  
They were just skipping around before he knew it like a pair of giddy school-children.  
She didn’t know he was wanted in at least two states - but, again - nobody was perfect.

 

 

 

True love forgives and understands.  
Otherwise, it wasn’t true.

 

 

 

His only obstacle was the hamster. Fluffy. The evil Dragon to his Prince Philip. She was away when it happened. His mugshot came up in a morning talk-show while he was lounging about in her bed, waiting for her to return from the store and at this point he didn’t even react to himself showing up on TV - the softness of a song playing on the radio when he was interrupted by the squeaking of the hamster-wheel next to her window and collection of indoor cacti - Eddie didn’t really flinch when killing. Torturing. Bleeding. Didn’t really feel much of anything. Especially now, when he remembered all the times he’s tried so very hard to be accepted, to fit in, to be liked, kept, important to someone. Someone’s first priority. Nonexchangeable. Valid. Beloved. The light of someone’s life. Only to be seconded by someone or something else. Something more relevant. Always something else. For decades now. Almost to do the point where he wondered if there’s something horribly wrong with him. Is he not good looking enough? Interesting enough? Kind enough? Charming enough? Helpful enough? How come he’s always abandoned for someone else? How come everyone’s picked over him? Recollecting all the times she’s fed Fluffy, pet Fluffy, talked about Fluffy, smiled about Fluffy, held Fluffy, showed Fluffy off, prattled on about Fluffies diet - he just couldn’t help it - one moment he was cupping the furry bundle of life in his palms, caressing it and whispering soothing nothings to himself, the next moment it was crushed beneath his fingers - frozen and no longer moving - a bleeding, meaty pulp under his neatly clipped nails. It was small, pure, helpless and soft - still warm. Just as he himself once was back when nobody cared enough to save him from the paws of predators who wished him harm - his own Uncle, his own Father, his own family - and now, it was dead. Ah, well - no great loss. Why would she even need a pet hamster when she had him? That fucking animal would just get in between their relationship and cause serious marital problems and disrupt their domestic bliss. They had each other now - and their babies to come. Two’s company. Three’s a crowd, like his old ma’ used to say. He remembered Hamlet’s murder of Polonius. This was his version of that. He was vanquishing enemies. One by one.

 

 

 

Eddie Gluskin couldn’t be replaced if there was nobody to replace him with.  
Honeybee was echoing in his ears and he smiled near triumphantly.  
Twirling in his own shadow in the semblance of a dance.  
He was willing to discard of everyone everywhere ever.  
If only that would mean he wasn’t going to be a last option any more.  
If only that meant he genuinely going to be taken by someone without reservations.  
If he had to fight for that special, honorary place in someone’s life - he truly, quite fiercely would.

 

 

 

That’s why he broke into her old neighbor's apartment and hit him over the head with a toaster.

Dead.

The pizza delivery guy on the hallway who he accidentally ran into with a kitchen knife four times.

Dead.

And the random by-passer whom he might or might have not pushed down a flight of stairs.

Dead.

Casually tripping a grandma leaning on her umbrella - and even though that didn’t count.

Also dead.

 

 

 

Well, maybe - probably, he didn't glance back - left with a broken hip in a best case scenario - old, crooked whore.

 

 

 

Now, what he didn’t expect was the torn, fearful disappointment in her eyes when he broke into the apartment - finding her covering in the corner, visibly shaken by the blood on his hands, terrified of him, casting heartbroken glares towards the remains of her dead pet strewn out the red-stained hamster-wheel. Even now, she didn’t even remember to run to him - ask why he’s bleeding. If he’s alright. If he’s hurt. Try and helping. Clean him up. Patch him up. Protect him. Aid him. Hide him. Maybe even lie for him - like a good one woman does. Instead, she was goddamn weeping over a goddamn hamster which could have been easily replaced with another. She cared more for an over-glorified field mouse more then him. This is what Eddie Gluskin loathed the most. It was what often pushed him over the edge. No matter how much he tried. How much he pushed himself towards everyday normality. No matter how much he strained himself. How much he gave himself to others. How many favors he did. How much he listened. Comforted. Loved. One attempt after another - he never had space in anyone’s heart. No even his own mother’s. Even his own mother loved projecting the image of perfection in their household to insignificant town gossips then actually protecting him. His innocence. His childhood. His years of nativity. She loved her own reputation more then her son’s well-being. As long as the curious ears don’t hear. As long as nobody suspects what goes on behind closed doors. As long as nobody discovers. But, a caged rat? Over him? An actual goddamn human being with dreams, aspirations, a past, his own thoughts, fears, hopes and desires? He felt so inadequate, humiliated and unworthy to the point of madness that he broke her neck on the spot on quench the feelings of shame overcoming him - barehanded, only to end up swallowed up the blind, dark streets in pursuit of a new home with an array of police sirens after his trail. A new place. A new somebody. A new love. A new darling. A new honeybee. Still seething over the fact that even a mindless mouse with maybe over two or three activities including eating, sniffing and squeaking was more respected, valued and upheld as an upstanding member of society then he was. No wonder he was being coarse, rude and ungentlemanly today. Whores! The very lot of them!

 

 

What was the point if even a mere beast could out-do him?

Might as well turn into one then.

 

 

He was aware that they’d say The Groom was on the loose, looking for new victims.  
The way he saw it, he was out looking for someone who would love him.  
Completely and utterly - someone who would pick him every time.  
Someone who wouldn’t be in doubt that they wanted him.  
Someone who wouldn’t have second thoughts.  
Someone who wouldn’t dream of making him jealous.  
Someone who would be sincerely afraid of ever loosing him.  
Someone who wouldn’t use him to erase their own loneliness and boredom.  
Most importantly - someone who didn’t have a hamster they talked about without ceasing.

 

 

 

That way, he wouldn’t be alone, unwanted and forgotten for much longer.


End file.
